


The Echoes That Haunt

by watermelonriddles



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Choking, Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s02e13 King, Scars, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 19:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19409443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watermelonriddles/pseuds/watermelonriddles
Summary: "The nightmares came quickly and out of nowhere. It had been fine for a while. She cried a lot in the beginning but then Turner finally left and Rio never showed up at her door (neither did any of his… associates) and so things settled. After a while, there were no constant reminders lurking around every corner. She was able to look forward. Plans were made in terms of money and she had her babies all under one roof but then, just as she hit that sweet point in her life where she finally began to feel genuinely happy again, the nightmares started and everything fell apart."Post 2x13.





	The Echoes That Haunt

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I had to write for me and I'm fully aware it's not for everyone so I did my best with the tags but let me know if you think there's anything major missing 🙏

Turner had gone and stayed away just like she had hoped. There had been a brief period of time, right after he left, where Beth wondered if it was all a trick and her guard was constantly up as a result of it. She constantly questioned if he would walk right back into her life and continue to follow her around just like he had done for all those months, trying to get something - anything - on her. In the back of her mind, she wondered if maybe he would be in the shadows, that maybe he would blindside her and take her down before she even had a chance to fight back.

But Turner did stay away and even if he was lurking around, waiting for the right moment to strike, there were other things that invaded Beth’s mind because Rio was an entirely different story. He was the dead one, the one who wasn’t going to come back at all and yet he was the one she saw the most. The one that scared her. The one she feared would return.

The nightmares came quickly and out of nowhere. It had been fine for a while. She cried a lot in the beginning but then Turner finally left and Rio never showed up at her door (neither did any of his… _associates_ ) and so things settled. After a while, there were no constant reminders lurking around every corner. She was able to look forward. Plans were made in terms of money and she had her babies all under one roof but then, just as she hit that sweet point in her life where she finally began to feel genuinely happy again, the nightmares started and everything fell apart.

It was relatively the same every single time. Beth would always be in a dark room. Sometimes she would be lying in a bed, other times she would be sitting on some kind of chair. There would be some kind of noise, somewhere in the darkness before her, that would grab her attention. How long it took for her eyes to adjust varied with each nightmare. Sometimes her hearing was muffled as well, sometimes her voice wouldn’t work, sometimes everything was perfectly fine. The details were always switching around but there was always one thing that remained the same. _Rio_.

Not long after the noise caught her attention, he would walk right out of the shadows and he would never stop coming. Every single time Beth tried to move but she couldn’t. Invisible restraints held her in place the entire time. It didn’t matter how much she struggled and every time she closed her eyes, it was like they were forced back open again. Every single time he would be wearing some kind of a shirt but as he walked closer to her, it came off, finally forcing her to face what she did.

The three bullet wounds were always big and gaping and probably unrealistic but it never mattered much to Beth because she couldn’t move. The tears fell no matter what she did and when Rio stopped - usually right beside her if she’s lying down or right in front of her if she’s sitting down - the wounds began to bleed. The blood is always thick and way too bright. It practically poured out of each hole and Rio simply watched her the entire time, his expression blank. Eventually, her eyes would find his and the exact moment they did, he would begin to choke, blood at the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin, as he gasped for air.

It always went on like that for a long time. He choked, she cried. He stared at her openly, eyes pleading, and she could never look away no matter how hard she tried.

Beth used to always wake up screaming. And for a long time, it went like this: crying, gasping for breath, pure and impenetrable panic. By the time she calmed down, everything hurt and she practically fell into a heap as exhaustion claimed her.

It’s relatively the same still only now she doesn’t panic nor does she scream. Instead, when Beth wakes, she’s gasping for air which turns into silent tears and then she just stays where she is, staring at the open space in front of her, the image of the Rio from her nightmares still very clear to her. He’s just as vibrant and even when he finally disappears, she remains awake for a long time after.

Tonight doesn’t seem any different at first but then she notices the details.

When she finally catches her breath and the tears start falling, Rio is at the end of her bed like he always is. Only this time he has his shirt on and there doesn’t seem to be blood anywhere on him. He watches her carefully and she doesn’t know quite what to think because while it’s different, it’s just as haunting.

She pushes the covers to the side and carefully crawls to the end of the bed where she kneels down. Her head tilts a little to the side, tears still falling, as she watches him. He’s blinking slowly, tongue flicking at the corners of his mouth as if trying to wipe away the blood that’s normally there. He looks good, better than he ever does in her nightmares and the echoes that haunt her when she wakes up.

After a few moments in which neither of them has moved, Beth climbs off the bed and moves towards him. He turns to her as she approaches and when she stops, she’s right in front of him. He’s within arms reach but she daren’t step any closer. The panic starts to bubble up again and she’s already struggling to catch her breath.

“Why didn’t you ever just do it?” she asks between breaths. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

Beth’s tried, can feel it deep down in her bones. Her energy is limited and always runs out too quickly. She hates herself for it really. The way she couldn’t even bring herself to fight when Dean moved out and took the kids with him. The way she just agreed to see them when she could because by that point she was too exhausted and while Kenny was old enough to maybe understand that she was going through something, her younger three couldn’t seem to wrap their heads around her screaming at the early hours of the morning or the sluggish way she moved around the house. The empty bottles of bourbon piled up, the home-cooked meals turned into microwavable ones, and forget her getting involved with play time. Her kids didn’t understand - not that she would expect them to - and she hated herself for giving up but she couldn’t do it.

“Please,” Beth begged. “I just want it to stop.”

And then it happens.

He touches her.

Beth practically stops breathing when Rio reaches up to gently touch her face, pushing her hair out of the way - _I like pushing it out of your face -_ his finger trailing its way down the side of her face like he always used to do. It hits her then that this echo had been different because he’s real.

At first, she expects relief but it never comes. Not even when her hands tentatively touch his chest just to make sure. Nor does it come when she begins to slowly unbutton his shirt so she can see. He doesn’t stop her, just watches her. She only undoes it just enough to see the marks she’s left on him. Three scars, still raw, not quite settled. There’s no gaping wounds, no pouring blood. He’s alive. The relief that does finally flood her is over the fact that he’s okay.

It doesn’t change anything else.

Her fingers gently touch his skin, skirting around each scar. As one of her hands spreads out over his heart, Beth’s eyes drift shut and she puts her head down a little. The black hole that constantly feels like it’s going to swallow her up is still there. She’s not afraid that he’s there, not afraid of what he might do to her like she thought she would be. Everything is dark and deep and all-consuming. She just wants it to be over.

And as if Rio had read her mind, Beth feels it, the tip of his gun pressed against her stomach.

She takes a steady breath, maybe the easiest one she’s taken in a long time, and she’s ready for it. The pull of the trigger, the brief moment before the pain will rip through her, even the unknown of whether she’ll bleed out quickly or slowly. She can see it in her mind, can feel the edges of the overwhelming relief that she knows will finally fall over her when it’s done.

But it never comes.

Instead, he does something much crueler, more fitting perhaps. Death is too easy, Beth realises, because instead of killing her, Rio leaves her to live with it.


End file.
